


Tech Week

by TheatrePhantom



Series: Trans Dib for the Soul [3]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, High School, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Musicals, Nervousness, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, Theatre, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Dib (Invader Zim), Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24765643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheatrePhantom/pseuds/TheatrePhantom
Summary: Dib wouldn’t say that he’s much of a musical theatre kid, but, when his enemy begins to sink more time and effort into the theatre department than anticipated, that changes.Preface: This takes place in the same universe as Strawberry Shortcake and has several references to things that happened in the work.
Relationships: Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: Trans Dib for the Soul [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790959
Comments: 60
Kudos: 90





	1. It Begins

**Chapter One: It Begins**

**Summary:** Dib wouldn’t say that he’s much of a musical theatre kid, but, when his enemy begins to sink more time and effort into the theatre department than anticipated, that changes. 

**Notes:** Partially written because I am filthy little theatre kid myself and partly because I felt like writing more trans Dib content. Good for the soul. 

Dib had never considered himself much of a theatre kid. It wasn't that he didn't  _ appreciate  _ theatre, he just wasn't as passionate about it as he was other things. He could enjoy a good play or musical every now and then- Dib was a  _ sucker  _ for the musical version of  _ Jekyll and Hyde _ \- but it wasn't a big part of his life and it never had been. In fact, he barely remembered that his school even had a theatre department. Of course, he knew that they were there, but he had tried his hardest to avoid the entire department after the incredibly awkward situation where he declined to join the choir after he had passed the audition. Aside from the donations that his father dropped for the underfunded program every once in a while, he didn’t really interact with them or know what was going on. He tried his hardest to keep it that way. 

Until he noticed Zim’s newfound  _ hobby _ .

Initially, Dib had been surprised when he found out that Zim was interested in their theatre department, but, now that he thought about it more carefully, it made a lot of sense. If you were successful in theatre, you earned yourself a great deal of attention and he knew for a fact that Zim  _ loved  _ being the in the spotlight. He was almost always the loudest person in the room and demanded respect (even if he often miserably failed in that department). Theatre fed directly into many of the things that Zim desired the most in life and was of easy access to the alien. Not only that, but the theatre and music kids formed a tightly-knit group and almost always had one another’s backs, even when they were at “war” with one another (the drama department was described  _ perfectly  _ by its name, sometimes). If he infiltrated them, Zim would practically have an army on his side- and it would be a pretty decent army at that. 

Really, Dib should have seen Zim’s excitement with theatre from a mile away. 

Regardless, it had come as a bit of a shock to see Zim sign up to audition for the fall play-  _ Arsenic and Old Lace _ (one of Dib’s  _ favourite _ plays)- and it was even more of a shock to see Zim landing a role considering the fact that there were about twelve characters and, well, Zim had never acted before. 

Dib had mixed feelings about Zim joining their theatre community. On one hand, it gave Dib more time to himself with Zim preoccupied with rehearsals and learning his lines. On the other hand, it brought Dib  _ so _ much anxiety to not know what was happening with his enemy. He could have spent the entire time brainwashing and torturing the others in the department and Dib wouldn’t have been any the wiser until after Zim began to unveil his evil plan to Dib. 

As it turned out, getting a role in the school play had had absolutely nothing to do with any evil plot of Zim’s (at least not one that Dib was privy to). He just ended up sinking a lot of his time and energy into it and, unsurprisingly, absolutely  _ adored _ basking in the attention that he was showered with when he was able to take his final bows. 

Usually, Dib didn’t go to the school plays and musicals. He did every once in a while, but keeping his distance from the entire community included avoiding the school plays and musicals like the plague. This time, though, Dib bought himself a ticket and attended. 

He hated to admit that Zim was actually surprisingly good in his role- though he  _ was _ playing the unhinged main antagonist of the story, Johnathan Brewster, so it wasn’t  _ too _ shocking to see that he wasn’t horrible at it. Zim was strangely passionate up on stage and Dib couldn’t tell whether it was because he was enjoying acting itself or the fact that he was playing such a good villain. Either way, it had Dib entranced in a way that he hadn’t been in a while and, despite knowing exactly how the play ended, he found himself on the edge of his seat the entire performance. 

That night, Zim hadn’t done anything diabolical. At least as far as Dib saw, he was just another theatre kid with a passion for his craft and a lust for the spotlight. That didn’t mean that that was the  _ only _ thing going on there, though. Even from his brief time in the program, he knew that the theatre and music department was one of the most pack-like groups in the entire school and it was absolutely  _ certain _ that it would get Zim some allies and, in turn, Dib some enemies. 

Zim wasn’t stupid and Dib knew that the alien had to realize that, too, eventually. It was likely that it was only a matter of time before Zim used his newfound “friends” to aid him in his fight for world domination (or just in his fight to destroy Dib’s like in particular, which seemed just as important to Zim, as the years went on). 

But there was  _ no way _ Dib was going to let that happen. He wasn’t going to let Zim plot and scheme without him knowing and he wasn’t going to let him use the poor theatre kids against their own species for his villainous plans.

There also may have been the added pain of seeing Zim up there with all of the nice, passionate, interesting people from the theatre department. Those would have been  _ his _ people instead of Zim’s if Dib weren’t such a fucking coward. He could have had friends and allies  _ right now _ if he hadn’t let his own insecurities get in the way back then. Even all the years later, Dib was still kicking himself over that. He may no longer be as passionate about music as he was back then but he had auditioned and he had done  _ well _ back then. His life could be completely different and far better right now if he hadn’t dropped out as he did. Dib was fully aware that that was completely on himself and had nothing to do with Zim, but he wasn’t going to stop him from brooding and being bitter.

It took a bit of deliberating for Dib to decide upon what he was going to do. What really sold it for him was the conspiratorial grin that Zim had as the crowd cheered during their final bows. Even if the smile could have been completely innocent, Dib didn’t trust Zim for a second and he knew that the alien had a leg up by just being part of them. 

That’s why, when Dib saw Zim sign up to audition for the musical that spring, he decided that he would do something instead of just sitting there, again. 

He wasn’t going to audition for a part- no, he was still far too insecure about his voice despite it being far less feminine than it had been back then and he had very little belief in his acting abilities. He wasn’t going to pass up the chance to be part of this, though, not when Zim was part of it and almost definitely using it to his advantage. 

Besides, even if Zim  _ wasn’t _ smart enough to see that he could use the camaraderie of the theatre program against Dib (which was a definite possibility), that would just give Dib the chance to do the same to him (and, hey, if allyship meant friendship, then he wasn’t opposed)!

Dib had made up his mind on what he was going to do. 

He signed up for tech crew. 


	2. New Techie

When Dib signed up to join tech, the director, as well as the long-time techies, were excited to have another member of the crew. Despite this, several of them attempted to warn him about it. 

“I think it’s amazing that you’re rediscovering your interest in the department-” Dib wasn’t  _ too  _ enthusiastic about musical theatre, to begin with, and the only reason he hadn’t actually ended up joining the choir all those years ago was due to his dysphoria rather than any  _ actual  _ disinterest in the department. Still, Dib felt  _ somewhat _ guilty hearing him bring it up, as though he had abandoned the department he had hardly known in the first place, “But I  _ do _ want you to know that this is one of the most ambitious musicals we’ve done in a long time. It’s going to be really difficult as a first attempt at being part of the tech crew.”

The bit of tension that Dib had going into this conversation dissipated immediately. He had been  _ far _ more worried about Mr. Carmen being bitter about him dropping choir all those years ago than he had been about facing struggles in tech crew. He knew what being part of tech crew entailed and none of it seemed too difficult. Moving set-pieces quickly, efficiently, and quietly? Done. Programming the soundboard to work with whatever effects and music they needed? Simple. Setting up the different lights? Easy. Dib  _ wasn’t _ worried about it at all- and he was fantastic at dealing with stress either way! It wouldn’t be a problem. 

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Dib reassured. 

“I just don’t want you to feel overwhelmed or confused.”

“I’m a quick learner,” Dib shrugged, “I’ll figure everything out and I’ll learn as I go. I’ll be able to help.”

Still seeming slightly unsure, Mr. Carmen nodded, “If you’re sure, but you  _ are _ committed once tech week comes around. You can’t back out last minute if you decide that it’s too much by then.”

“Of course,” Dib frowned slightly. That felt like a not-so-subtle poke at Dib deciding not to join choir only after he had auditioned, but he tried not to let it bother him too much. 

“Alright,” Mr. Carmen let out a breath as if relieved by Dib’s reassurances- though he could have definitely been reading too much into that, “Be sure to talk to the techies who have a lot of experience with this. I think it’ll be really beneficial for you and it should make things less stressful. They’ll help you figure things out.”

“Duly noted,” Dib adjusted the strap of his backpack, “Is there anyone in specific I should be talking to?”

“Once the head techs for each section are chosen, you should probably focus on the people from whatever area you’re sorted into.”

Dib nodded. He could make an educated guess about what a “head tech” was, but he didn’t really know what the different areas of tech crew were and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask and make himself sound like an idiot in the process. 

“I’ll see you at the first meeting this Wednesday,” Mr. Carmen reminded, “We meet right after school in the auditorium.”

“I’ll be there.” 

Dib meant it. Not only did he want to get in Zim’s way as much as possible and find any allies he could, but he also wanted to prove to Mr. Carmen that he wasn’t just some rich kid who blew off the commitments he made- even if he  _ didn’t _ care about the teacher’s opinion of him that much. It was just a little extra incentive to do well at this. He was going to be the  _ best _ damn techie and he was going to  _ destroy _ Zim in the process. 

~~~

As promised, Dib was at the auditorium doors mere moments after the bell had rung, signifying the end of the day. It was a welcoming sound, one that signified their freedom, despite the fact that it was absolutely horrendous and made Dib’s head pound. Regardless, today, it meant that he was taking the first steps of his new plan towards taking Zim down, so the terrible screeching was welcomed with open arms and a devious smile. 

Without a second thought, Dib pushed open the doors. Within the cramped quarters of the auditorium, he could see the slowly forming coalition of other techies. There was a decent variety of people crowded into the front few rows of seats in the auditorium, cheerily talking amongst themselves as they awaited Mr. Carmen’s arrival. 

A quick scan of the room confirmed what DIb had already suspected: he knew nearly all of the students in the room, but he certainly wasn’t close to them by any stretch of the imagination. 

That in mind, Dib decided to take a seat alone in the nearly empty fourth row of seats. The fabric of the chairs was worn down like hell, making them fuzzy and soft, but they had clearly suffered quite a bit of abuse from the years they spent in the room. Some of them even bore the war scars of their efforts, patches of newer fabric keeping some from falling apart and suspicious, unknown stains on others. Still, it was far better than other high school auditoriums, does Dib supposed he couldn’t complain. 

Only a few minutes passed before Mr. Carmen entered the auditorium as well, heading to sit at the front of the stage so he could address everyone. Quickly, the others in the room fell silent from their discussions, instead focusing on him in silent excitement (Dib couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the clear enthusiasm some of the others displayed). 

After a bit of an introduction to tech in general as well as the musical they were doing for the year, Mr. Carmen answered the question Dib had been too nervous to ask.

“As you all know, we’ll be selecting head techs for the musical in a few weeks and forms for it will be online. We’ll be needing head techs for stage left and right, prop table, soundboard, and light booth.”

Soundboard and light booth? Hell yeah! Dib could definitely do that. Being the son of an amazing scientist like Membrane as well as his years of experimentation and interest in technology left him with a great deal of confidence in the area. He could easily deal with light booth  _ or _ soundboard. Neither were comprised of too advanced or complicated technology, from Dib’s knowledge, and he knew that he could  _ easily _ operate either incredibly well- probably even better than several of the others in the room once he got used to it.

“Thus year, though, we’re doing something a little different. As usual, head techs will pick all of you for whatever area you’ll be working in. Typically, those of you interested in soundboard or light booth would end up getting specific training for whatever it is you’ll be doing if you aren’t already familiar with it-”

A confident smile played across his features as he heard Mr. Carmen’s words. He could do this! Especially if he was going to be trained by some of the others on it, he wouldn’t have a problem. 

“-this year, though, we’ve decided that, if you want to be on lightboard or sound booth, you’ll have to already have experience with them. This is a difficult musical to start out with as it is and I don’t want anyone who doesn’t already know what they’re doing to end up struggling during the show.”

Dib’s smile fell, a frown taking his place. That rule wasn’t  _ just _ because he had joined, right? That wasn’t Mr. Carmen’s way of keeping him in check, right? That seemed petty and low for even the people at his school- especially a  _ teacher _ . 

He only half-listened to the rest of what was said. As far as he was concerned, soundboard and light booth would be the simplest for him and he wouldn’t have to worry too much about either considering his advanced knowledge on technology. Whatever it was that stage left and right did, though? He had  _ no _ clue. He wasn’t quite sure what it was that they did (perhaps a good reason for him to pay attention to Mr. Carmen’s words more carefully, but he was too in his head to consider that), let alone how proficient he would be at it. 

No matter. Dib was nothing if not adaptable. He’d figure things out- working out what they were doing on stage left and right was the least of his problems with Zim in the picture. Besides, how difficult could it  _ really _ be?


	3. Build Saturday

Dib didn’t really know what he expected from joining the tech crew, but he had anticipated them meeting way more than they actually did. Considering how frequently the actors met to rehearse their lines, explore their characters, and try out different things to make the musical better, Dib had expected they would have to meet far more often than they actually did. As it turned out, though, they only had to meet once a week to learn basic things such as how to set a spike (even someone so novice in the theatre department as Dib figured it out fairly easily, so he had no clue why they had to spend such a long time learning about it), and taking polls on various things regarding the department (something that DIb didn’t really participate in since he was so new). 

The only other time that the techies met was for the optional “Build Saturday” every week where they would work on creating set pieces, costumes, and other such things. In all honesty, though, Dib didn’t pay much attention to information about build Saturdays because he didn’t anticipate Zim showing up to them- why would he? Dib assumed he would be able to skip most of the build Saturdays since the whole reason he was joining the theatre department wouldn’t even be there.

As it turned out, though, Zim went to every single build Saturday he could attend. 

The alien was just full of surprises, wasn’t he?

Dib hadn’t even planned on showing up to the first build Saturday until he overheard Zim mention to a long-time tech- Rhea Berry- that he would be there. 

Of course, with  _ that _ confirmation, Dib couldn’t just skip the meeting, so he cleared his schedule and headed there early Saturday morning. 

The other tech kids avoided him like the plague when he first arrived, much to Dib’s irritation and disappointment. Considering Dib’s history, he supposed he couldn’t blame them, but he had never done anything to directly harm or hinder  _ any _ of the people who were there that day. It was irritating how passive-aggressive some of them were to him initially, but it wasn’t as if it were something that Dib was unfamiliar with.

Unfortunately, Dib found himself awkwardly sketching and painting the signs advertising for the music in the corner of the hallway that lead to the auditorium. Dib was pretty decent at art, though his expertise lay mostly with drawing more detailed things rather than painting. Regardless, it was somewhat calming, even if Dib was annoyed with the hostility of some of the others there.

After roughly twenty minutes of Dib idly painting the signs and letting his mind wander to other, more important things (like when Zim would arrive- while they weren’t close by any means and they definitely hated one another, the fact that it was mutual and founded off something  _ real _ made it far more welcome to Dib than the hatred from the rest of his peers), someone sat down across from him, demanding all of his attention. 

Glancing up, Dib could see that it was none other than Rhea. Based off of the look that they were giving him, Dib assumed that, whatever they had to say, it wasn’t good.

With a sigh, Dib set down his paintbrush, “What?”

“No need for the hostility,” Rhea frowned, “I just wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

“Why you joined tech.”

Dib just shrugged and picked up his paintbrush once more, attempting to ignore them. Based off of all of the conversations he had had up until then regarding his joining the tech crew, he had a feeling this could only go downhill. 

“You joined because of Zim, right?” Rhea pressed, “Listen, I know that you and Zim have this weird, homoerotic, enemies to lovers thing going on-”

“We do  _ not _ have-!”

“ _ But _ this is  _ really _ important- to not just me but to  _ all _ of us. If you and Zim ruin the musical because you’re fighting and trying to tear each other apart during the entire show and throughout the prep time, everything we’ve been working for will fall apart. I am  _ not _ going to let my final show at this school be absolute garbage because you and your boyfriend’s repressed romance ruined everything,” Rhea crossed their arms, “I am  _ not _ going to put up with any bullshit and I will absolutely make you pay if you get in the way.”

Dib rolled his eyes, unamused. Growing up with someone as intimidating and powerful as Gaz just made Rhea and their threats seem all the less worrisome. Considering everything that DIb had gone through with Zim and his other various run-ins with aliens and cryptids, he was certain that there was  _ nothing _ Rhea could actually do to him that would be of  _ any _ importance. 

“I’m not here to ruin  _ anything _ ,” Dib huffed, “I’m here because I have an interest just like all of you guys, okay? You all need to stop being so paranoid about what I’m going to do.”

Rhea softened slightly, though not by much. Dib didn’t know much about them, but it was obvious that they were pretty passionate about this and DIb could understand. 

The other tech leaned around to look over Dib’s shoulder and examine the work he had done on the signs. Immediately, their face brightened, “Damn, that looks pretty nice! You an artist?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, we  _ do _ need more people on the team who actually know what they’re doing with a paintbrush… you’ll be helpful creating the set.”

_ That’s what I’ve been  _ trying _ to say. _

Rhea ended up sitting with Dib and working on another sign. They didn’t talk much- there wasn’t much common ground for them to stand on, as far as either of them knew- so they listened to some music with the others as well. While things were still a bit tense, since Rhea was sitting with Dib and seemed to have given him their trust, they began to warm up to the idea of him being there ever so slightly. They still didn’t really talk to him, but, at the very least, they weren’t actively avoiding him. That was good enough for Dib- at least for now. 

Then, what Dib had been waiting all day for  _ finally _ happened and Zim walked in through the front doors. 

Warmly, the people on the tech crew and the cast members who were there greeted Zim, waving to him as he entered. Dib would be lying if he claimed that it didn’t hurt to see them all acting so friendly and kind towards Zim when they had all immediately shunned Dib the moment he walked in.

Zim hardly responded to any fo the attention of the others, though. Instead, his eyes immediately locked upon Dib’s and he approached him. 

As Zim drew closer, Rhea let out a huff of air and shot the two of them weary looks before standing, “I’m going to get more paint. Try not to break the signs.”

Ignoring Rhea, Zim took their spot, sitting down beside Dib and narrowing his eyes, “Dirt-Monster.”

“Space Boy,” Dib responded curtly. 

“Here to ruin the musical for me, fool?”

“I’m  _ here _ to stop whatever diabolical plots you have against my  _ planet _ , alien scum.”

Zim let out a chuckle, “You  _ dare _ attempt to foil my evil plots? Foolish worm baby! As if you could  _ ever _ defeat me.”

“Do you  _ not _ remember the Floorpus incident,” Dib crossed his arms, “Because I seem to recall besting you on  _ multiple _ occasions.”

“My mission there was a success! You did no such thing!”

Dib just laughed and turned his attention from Zim to the sign he was working on, earning himself a quiet growl of irritation from the Irken Invader at his side. Dib considered the small gesture of annoyance a win (not that it was  _ difficult _ to aggravate the Invader, but that didn’t make it any less fun to do so).

Several moments passed with Dib just continuing to work on his task, a musical playlist flowing through the speakers of someone’s phone and the chatting of the others quiet in the background.  _ That _ didn’t get to Dib, but what  _ did _ was the fact that that damn alien was just sitting beside him and staring. 

“Planning on doing anything, Space Boy, or are you just going to sit there like an idiot and stare?”

“Zim is no  _ idiot _ .”

“Then why are you just staring at me like a creep?” Dib wasn’t going to acknowledge the fact that he was only there because he of  _ Zim _ \- he was clearly in the right considering who the other man was. 

“I do many things beyond your pathetic brain’s comprehension.”

The urge to kick the alien just to push him away from Dib was a great one, but he didn’t want to further alienate himself from the drama department- not when him doing well there was so pivotal to his success against Zim. Instead, he reached over and smeared the paint he had on his brush across the Irken’s cheek. 

Zim let out a high-pitched screech and batter Dib’s hand away from him, “You  _ dare _ attack me and expect to get away with it?!”

“What? The water from the paint burning your sensitive Irken skin?”

Even as he spoke, Dib knew that retaliation from the alien was eminent, so it didn’t surprise him when he found his own face splattered with paint as well. Despite knowing that his actions could really only have one potential outcome- that being one of Zim giving Dib a taste of his own medicine- he was soon jumping to his feet, wetting his paintbrush with more of the deep blue dye by his feet. 

Zim caught on quickly and moved to scramble away from Dib, putting distance between the two of them to avoid his next attack. Dib moved too quickly though and, with a flick of his wrist, splattered the bright colours in small droplets across Zim’s outfit. 

Not one to be bested, Zim dipped a gloved hand into the bucket of paint before moving to smear it across Dib’s face, running his fingers through the human’s hair when he jerked his head to the side so he could tangle paint there, too.

Before Dib could do anything to retaliate, a voice cut through.

“Hey, break it up!” Rhea ran over to them, a scowl across their face, “I  _ just _ told you not to mess anything up.”

Dib and Zim obediently stepped away from one another slightly. 

“Technically,” Zim began, “We ruined nothing.”

Rhea face-palmed, “Just go clean up.”

Dib and Zim shared glares before heading to the bathroom to wipe the paint from their skin and clothes. 

He had a feeling that this was just the beginning of their hostility throughout this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Build Saturdays can be absolute madness.


	4. Rehearsals

Dib had been mildly surprised when he discovered that people from the tech crew didn’t need to attend rehearsals like the cast of the show did. They supposedly had the prepare just as much as the actors did and Mr. Carmen made sure to frequently stress how important the tech crew was for the performance to go well. It didn’t make sense to Dib that they didn’t have to meet anywhere near as frequently, or at least attend the rehearsals and watch if that were the case. 

Despite it not being required for people on the tech crew to attend rehearsals, they were allowed to do so, so long as they were polite and didn’t interfere with the actors or the director and his assistant. Dib was  _ fully _ prepared to use this to his advantage as much as possible. As it turned out, being part of the musical in this way didn’t give him much more of a chance to keep an eye on Zim or thwart his villainous plans. Being able to go to rehearsals, however,  _ did _ allow him to get in Zim’s way. 

He had expected that Zim put up some sort of front when with the other theatre kids- some peaceful, less irritating facade to keep their allyship and not scare them away (or drive them to murder with the annoyances he created). That wasn’t the case, though. Instead of obviously pretending to be a decent person, Zim was just…  _ himself _ in front of all of them. It was clear that the others still found him obnoxious and intense, but they weren’t cruel to him in any way. They seemed to care far more about the fact that he could boldly and accurately portray his role than they did about the more irritating aspects of his personality. 

It was honestly surprising- or, at least, it was until Dib began to see and interact with the theatre kids more regularly. While Zim was still  _ far _ louder and more obnoxious than any of the others who were in the cast, it quickly became apparent to Dib that the other theatre kids tended to be incredibly intense as well. They were nowhere near as revoltingly irritating as Zim was, but the vast majority of them were also loud, rowdy people with high self-esteem who liked to joke around a lot. There were several people in the theatre department who, typically, strayed from this rule, acting as the quieter kids in their classes. Still, being in a room full of overly-excited people hyping one another up made it difficult to remain quiet and calm- at least for several of the quieter theatre kids. 

Dib was certain that he would be in the same position as them if he simply interacted with and befriended some of the others. That wasn’t to say that Dib was a “quiet” kid- he was  _ far _ from it as anyone in their school could tell you- but, when he was at rehearsals, watching the others almost mindlessly while he tried to keep track of Zim’s schemes, he stayed almost silent, brooding the entire time. 

It was mildly pathetic and he knew it, but it wasn’t as though Dib had anyone he could be obnoxious and friendly with when doing anything for the musical, so he was stuck off to the sidelines, watching idly and only chiming in with rude comments against Zim occasionally. 

For the most part, going to rehearsals wasn’t too bad, though. Between the actual acting and the stupid comments made by the actors and director, it could be fairly entertaining- even if Dib  _ did _ end up seeing the same scene over and over again so many times that he memorized the lines. 

Typically, Dib was one of the only tech people who showed up for rehearsals, and, even when that wasn’t the case, he wasn’t close with any of them, so he had no one to joke around or share his suspicions with. 

At least, that was  _ usually _ the case. 

Dib found himself practically falling asleep at one of the more boring rehearsals. The acting was pretty stagnant- likely from a combination of it being Monday and a new scene that they hadn’t run before. It wasn’t  _ bad _ , per se, but it certainly wasn’t holding Dib’s attention as much as they usually did, so, rather than carefully paying attention to what was happening at the front of the room, he found himself alternating between dozing off and working on homework from the day.

While struggling to keep himself awake, he felt a presence settle itself to the side of him, drawing Dib’s attention up to who it was. 

_ Shockingly _ , it was Rhea.

Considering they still weren’t exactly buddy-buddy, DIb just quirked an eyebrow as the other sat down beside him, unsure as to why they were even coming over to him in the first place.

“So,” they began, not bothering to greet Dib before launching into whatever they were going to talk about, “I got head tech for stage left.”

Dib wasn’t surprised in the least. With how obviously passionate about tech Rhea was, it would have been more stunning if they  _ hadn’t _ gotten head tech. Still, Dib didn’t exactly know why they were telling him this. Beyond a few conversations they had either out of necessity or agitation, they hadn’t spoken to one another much. “Good for you?”

Rhea rolled their eyes, “You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”

“Regret  _ what _ ? You’re not exactly making a lot of sense, Rhea.”

“As head tech of stage left, I am dubbing you a member of stage left tech crew,” Rhea pointed at Dib, finger mere centimetres away from his nose, “I’ve made the horrible decision to trust you and add you to my team because I think that you can be good if you can get your head out of Zim’s ass for long enough to do so.”

Now it was Dib’s turn to roll his eyes, “Gee,  _ thanks _ .”

“Listen,” Rhea huffed, “I’m putting a lot of faith into you right now, okay. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Fine.”

They nodded definitively, “I’ll see you at the next meeting, Dib.”

As stupid as that conversation had been, and as much as Dib disliked Rhea, it felt somewhat nice. He had expected to get stuck doing something like props since no one else wanted to do that. It was kind of nice to actually be  _ chosen _ for something willingly.

Working on stage left would, at the very least, certainly be more interesting than being at prop table. 


	5. Small Changes in Him

In many ways, it felt as though joining tech changed nothing. At least, as far as his battle with Zim went, things didn’t really change. Zim continued to keep up the same shenanigans and attempts on both Dib’s life personally and the safety of the entire school or planet, but, now they were occasionally in the auditorium when it happened. The alien did very little to turn all of the other theatre kids against Dib, but he did frequently pull “pranks” on Dib during their rehearsals or when tech met up once a week. Frequently, though, these attacks were far weaker than his typical ones. Dib couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t want to create a mess in the auditorium where he had taken sanctuary or because he didn’t care enough about DIb when he had the distraction of theatre (a though that crossed Dib’s mind more than once but always soured his mood). 

There were several ways that it  _ did _ change things, though. For instance, the division of both him and Zim’s time was different than usual and, slowly but surely, Dib was beginning to make allies within tech crew. Although they had all been incredibly hesitant, they were beginning to warm up to him- especially those who were also on stage left with him and Rhea. Actual changes that had an impact on him were slow coming and small, reminding Dib that this truly wasn’t too much of a challenge. 

Although Dib had anticipated joining tech being a chaotic and stressful endeavour, it was pretty nice, he had to admit. He didn’t have to worry about Zim nearly as much as he thought he would- perhaps Zim was too stupid to realize the potential in the theatre community, or perhaps he was too full of himself and the attention to care- and the community was surprisingly nice. 

Theatre kids had a bad reputation for being incredibly obnoxious, and, while some of them were, Dib had to admit that sitting on the floor with a group of other chaotic idiots, all singing different parts of songs from musicals at the tops of their lungs while painting props  _ was _ pretty entertaining. He also had to admit that, when Rhea and the other stage left kids decided that it was their turn to bring food to Build Saturday, it had been strangely fun to go out and get pizza with them. While sitting in a car full of screaming idiots wasn’t exactly high up on Dib’s “to do” list, it  _ had _ been a fairly nice outing, even if it  _ had _ been a little awkward. 

Slowly, Dib was beginning to make friendships- or, at least, friendly acquaintanceships- with those also within the theatre program, and he wasn’t the only one happy about it. Membrane, for one, was incredibly proud of his son for finding something to fixate on that  _ wasn’t _ paranormal or alien. As much as it irritated Dib that he couldn’t just do whatever he was interested in, he was glad that his father at least supported his newfound “hobby”, even if Dib’s heart wasn’t exactly in the right place when he initially joined. 

It did make him wonder, though. Would this be enough to make his father happy? How long before his fun in theatre went from being something good and productive to being just as disgraceful and useless as paranormal investigation was? How long was Membrane  _ actually _ going to support him with this? He doubted that it would be long. 

Dib was a problem child, sure, but he had never been a stupid one. He wasn’t a disappointment when it came to how well he did at school- at least not when it came to his grades. His grades on tests and assignments were fairly impressive, even if his behaviour at school frequently wasn’t. Despite how well he generally did at school, his father wasn’t exactly glowing with pride for him. The only time Membrane had seemed genuinely proud and supportive about how he did in school was when he was much younger. As the years passed, though, he cared less and less until he ended up completely pushing aside all pride he had for his son and his efforts. 

The thought that that would happen again with theatre was more than a little disheartening. For the first time in years, Membrane seemed supportive and even  _ excited _ about something that Dib was taking interest in. How long would that last, though? How long would his father be proud of him before completely brushing him off again? 

To say the least, Dib wasn’t happy about how things went with his father, and, as much as he wanted to bask in the joy that came with his father’s acceptance, he knew that it was more than likely pointless.

Regardless, Dib wasn’t going to let that fear get in the way of him enjoying theatre nor his paranormal studies. He wasn’t going to give Membrane that kind of power over his life. 

Besides, he had more important things to focus on. 

For instance, he was learning even more about Zim while they worked together. It wasn’t as though he was seeing him far more than he usually would, but the change in setting genuinely  _ did _ change things, giving Dib the opportunity to see how he interacted with the new environment and those within it. He interacted with other theatre kids much the way he interacted with everyone else, but there was still enough of a difference between how Zim acted at school and how he acted at rehearsals and build Saturdays that revealed how much Zim genuinely enjoyed himself there. 

It was actually kind of nice to see the alien seeming excited about something that wasn’t destroying his entire planet. Dib definitely saw Zim as a person- well, a sentient being with feelings and ideals- he was too passionate to  _ not _ come off as one, even if he  _ was _ dangerous and strange. It was obvious that, among all of the weird things Zim cared about, this was one of them, and it was almost endearing how excited he go about it. 

Strangely, despite certainly having more power over the people in theatre than Zim had over the general populous of the student body, he got up to far less during rehearsals. Dib found that, while they were working on the music, he didn’t have to worry too much about Zim. Occasionally, they would still fight, of course, but it was nothing as intense as their typical battles were, and were almost  _ friendly _ and  _ playful _ in nature.

Seeing Zim happy about something- genuinely happy and without any malicious intent hidden beneath the surface- was something uncommon and new, but Dib found himself enjoying it as well. Being able to spend time with Zim without having to constantly worry about the fate of the world was pleasant. It was nice to be with Zim, just as somewhat reluctant allies rather than enemies as they usually were.

Dib didn’t let himself think about that too much, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dib keeps saying this isn’t going to be too difficult, but he’s not ready for what will happen when actual Tech Week comes.


	6. Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me for taking so long and for writing so terribly.

Considering how easily the entire preparation process for the musical had gone by, Dib wasn’t too worried about the actual “Tech Week”. Working on the musical was far less stressful than he had anticipated (although he anticipated the stress coming from  _ Zim _ rather than the music itself). In fact, the process had actually, in many ways, made him feel  _ better _ . He had genuinely enjoyed the majority of it, actually. Build Saturdays had always been interesting to experience and watching rehearsals could be fun, even if it became incredibly repetitive. 

After spending so much time building pieces, painting the set, creating props, working on costumes, watching rehearsals, and listening in on the musical numbers, he felt confident that he knew this musical and how it would go down as well as he understood astronomy. He knew  _ exactly _ what he was doing and he had no worries about it. In fact, based on how passionate and excited Zim seemed about the entire thing, Dib wasn’t even too worried that he would try to do anything sketchy involving world domination and the theatre community of their school.

This was the final week that they would be working on the musical before it was over and both Dib and Zim would return to their regularly scheduled battles. 

For now, though, Dib only had to get through Tech Week. Just seven days of running and then finally performing the show before a live audience. One final week of doing whatever it was that he would actually need to do as a techie (Dib still wasn’t completely sure what the would need to do beyond moving things around and opening and closing curtains- none of which seemed too stressful). It almost felt anti-climactic.

But Dib had yet to even begin his Tech Week experience, so, perhaps, it would still be as fun and exciting as the rest of this experience had been.

~~~

“Exciting” was definitely a good adjective to describe the beginning of Tech Week but “fun”? Not so much. 

Despite the fact that Dib had been present for several of the rehearsals and had worked on several of the pieces of the set and such, seeing all of it coming together was strangely confusing. He had never seen the actors run through everything up on stage, let alone while interacting with the pieces of the set and the props. Up until that day, they hadn’t even truly had much practice moving props around for each of the scene changes- of which there were, apparently, a  _ lot _ . Dib hadn’t even been aware of how many scene changes there would be- or what that would even entail. Every theatrical performance he’d seen had transitions so smooth that he barely noticed them. Now that he was on the other side of that, though, it was difficult not to. 

They had to be faster than lightning when moving set pieces around and getting them in  _ just _ the right spot was imperative. If they were even an inch off the spike, they could throw off the entire scene. Other techies would have to rearrange their own set pieces and props to work with the problems created by the positioning being off and it would almost always throw off the actors.

What  _ really  _ got to Dib, though, was how quickly-paced everything was. They would barely explain what would need to be done and what pieces would need to be on-stage and where they would be before they were being shoved through the side curtains to figure out what to do. It felt as though they had barely been given any instruction on the logistics behind what they were doing before they were just expected to figure it out. 

Maybe it was because Dib was the only new person there, so they didn’t bother to fill him in, or perhaps this was just how things were when Tech Week came around. Considering the fact that everyone seemed so confident yet frazzled despite it only being the first day, Dib decided that both options were equally likely.

Either way, Dib had  _ not _ anticipated spending his first day of Tech Week this absolutely frazzled. 

Everyone on tech was almost constantly rushing around with mildly boring gaps of time between each transitional period with absolutely  _ no _ in-between. If felt like Dib would go from doing nothing and getting no instruction to suddenly having to do ten different things at once before the lights came back on.

His lack of expertise in the area certainly complicated things in many ways- including him not truly knowing how to prepare.

It wasn’t unusual for Dib to entirely skip meals at school- he had more important things to attend to (those “things” typically being Zim). It had never been too much of a problem to him, before. Of course, it had never been ideal, but it wasn’t as though he wouldn’t be able to eat when he got home. Considering all of the times that he had done this before, he didn’t think that today it would cause an issue when it never had in the past. 

Of course, at the time, Dib had no clue that they wouldn’t even be leaving the school until nearly  _ eleven at night _ . 

By the time they had finally been released, Dib was completely drained. He was starving from the day with little food, overheating from how much moving around he was doing (the trenchcoat he wore kept him  _ way _ warmer than was comfortable in the hot theatre, but he refused to take it off), frazzled and confused from how fast-paced the entire ordeal was without much instruction, and his chest hurt from how long he had been binding. Not to mention the fact that he still had homework to do when he got home from this day that had already been  _ far _ too long. 

Dib dragged a hand through his head.  _ Saturn _ , if he had known what to expect out of this and that they would be there for so long, he would have prepared himself better. He could have, at the very least, brought along some food and a change of clothes so he could take off his binder. 

Wearing it for too long was already irritating and could leave Dib’s chest feeling too tight, but adding sprinting around and strenuous work on top of binding for too long? It was a dangerous cocktail and Dib knew it. Still, he hadn’t brought along clothes to change into before tech, so he didn’t have many options beyond just pushing himself through it.

When they finally finished everything they needed to do for the night, Dib slunk out of the school in a terrible mood, muttering angrily under his breath. 

“Well,  _ Dib-Beast _ , how was your first day of Tech Week?”

Dib didn’t bother holding out the groan he let out at the sound of Zim’s voice. Despite the fact that he had initially signed up for this specifically to keep an eye on the alien, the exhaustion of his first day drained him to the point that he barely even wanted to deal with talking to him. 

Zim let out a chuckle, clearly not anywhere near as deeply affected as Dib had been, “Not well, I take it?”

With a deep breath, Dib turned to face him, “I am tired, I have a headache, I’m starving, and my chest hurts like  _ hell _ , so, if you don’t have anything important to do or say, leave me alone so I can go home.”

“Giving up so easily, Dib-Thing?” Zim’s voice was light and playful. Somehow, he wasn’t drained in the slightest by the day- though DIb supposed that wasn’t too shocking. Irkens didn’t need to sleep, nor did they need to eat anywhere near as much as humans did. Plus, he had experience in this, so he’d known exactly how this day would go- or, at the very least, had an idea based off of past experiences.

“Oh, I’m not giving up,” Dib crossed his arms over his chest, “But I’m not going to bother dealing with your bullshit unless the fate of the world is at stake. I don’t have the energy to keep this show running  _ and _ overthrow your plans.”

Zim paused at that, seeming to consider Dib’s words. The last time Zim had participated in whatever the theatre was doing, he hadn’t caused much trouble during that week. Everything that Dib had seen from him since then was beginning to make him think that this had more to do with him actually  _ enjoying _ and focusing on theatre rather than world domination. The thoughtful look on the alien’s face lent some validity to Dib’s thought-process, but what really sealed it was what Zim said next. 

“Alright, Dib. As I’ve said before, I don’t want to see this show go poorly because  _ you _ can’t handle it-” Dib scoffed at that- “So I’m willing to make you a deal.”

The human quirked an eyebrow, “A deal, huh?”

“Neither of us wants to be forced to deal with one another’s plots during this time, so, I propose that, for this week only, we form a truce,” Zim paced slightly as he spoke, as he tended to do when he was lost in thought or getting heated about something, “For one week, neither of us will get in the way of the other, nor cause problems for them.”

Dib wasn’t convinced, “Why exactly should I believe you? We’re enemies- I don’t exactly trust you very much.”

“Understandable concern, Dib-Thing, but I don’t want to have to deal without usual battles any more than you do, this week. We have other things to attend to.”

“You  _ do _ realize that ‘not getting in my way’ involves no plans for world domination?” Dib asked, head tilting to the side, “No mind control, or killing, or blowing up buildings.”

“But of course.”

Dib squinted at the alien, “I’ll go along with your little  _ truce _ , but the  _ second _ you step out of line and start up with your usual shit, I’ll make things  _ very _ painful for you.”

“Yes, yes, I would expect nothing less of you,” Zim waved a hand dismissively before holding it out in offering to Dib, “So is it a deal?”

Dib thought it over for a moment. As nice as it sounded to not have to deal with Zim, he knew he could only trust the alien so much. Even if he was an absolute moron sometimes, Zim was a hardened soldier sent to destroy his entire planet. He had no good reason to trust him and there was nothing that told Dib that it was a good idea to let his guard down around him. 

Still, it would be nice to at least  _ try _ to go a couple of days without something exploding between the two of them, and Zim’s apparent enthusiasm and passion towards the musical had Dib somewhat believing that the Irken would hold up his side of the deal. 

With absolute reluctance, Dib reached out and took the other’s hand with an air of finality, “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I included the bit about the binder because, while I knew what I was in for, I stubbornly refused to take my binder off for my first day of Tech Week and OH BOY was that am absolutely terrible idea. If you bind and you're a tech person, please be careful.


	7. Day After Confusion

Dib could barely remember the last time he had awoken feeling this utterly _exhausted_. He hadn’t gotten much less sleep than he did on a typical school day, but, for some reason, the previous night had taken everything out of him. Something about yesterday had just drained him of everything he had within and left him with very little energy. He woke up feeling just as tired as he had been when he had gone to sleep, making himself wonder if this was how the rest of the week was going to be. 

With a groan, he sat up, dragging a hand down his face tiredly. At the very least, he wasn’t entirely unused to getting very little sleep. His late nights with a warm coffee in his hands and a book about cryptids or a website about the paranormal open in front of him had trained him fairly well for functioning while completely drained, but not quite well enough for _this_. 

He didn’t have the time to regret the night before or mourn his loss of sleep, though, so he forced himself up from his bed and headed downstairs to make himself a cup of coffee. 

When he got downstairs, Gaz was already at the table, half-heartedly eating some cereal while she focused the majority of her energy on whatever game she was playing on her Game-Slave Five. She barely glanced at him before returning her attention to her game, “You look like shit.”

“Gee, _thank_ , Gaz,” DIb rolled his eyes as he made his way over to the coffee maker. Foodio 3000 could make pretty decent coffee if Dib only asked, but he preferred to make it on his own, most days. Foodio couldn’t get it the way he liked it. 

Despite feeling only half awake, Dib felt himself perk up at the very scent of the coffee beginning to brew. The delicious scent of roasted coffee beans slowly filling up the kitchen made Dib feel better, even if it was only slightly. By the time that he was finally finished making his coffee and starting to drink it, he felt hopeful that he would be able to at least get through the day without passing out halfway through it. 

He drank the coffee rather quickly (burning the inside of his mouth as he did so) and left another to brew while he got ready for the day. Knowing better than yesterday, he avoided wearing his binder as he typically did. Although his dysphoria often got the better of him, his chest still ached slightly from the night before and he knew, from a logical standpoint, that he shouldn’t put himself through that again unless he’s willing to deal with potentially hurting himself more permanently. Instead, he wore a normal sports bra and layered a t-shirt and a sweater beneath his trenchcoat. It was a little warm, but nothing that Dib couldn’t handle. 

Heavy backpack weighing on his shoulders, pockets of is trenchcoat stuffed with snacks for the day, and a large thermos with plenty of coffee in it clenched tightly in his hands, Dib finally set off, as ready to face the day as he would ever be.

~~~

The regular school day was rather uneventful- in fact, it was so uneventful that it felt _wrong_. Nearly all day, Dib spent his time at school focusing only minute amounts of his effort on his actual schoolwork while focusing heavily on Zim and going against the alien and his terrible plans to conquer his planet. Today, though, wasn’t like that. 

For the first time in what felt like months, Zim didn’t try anything. He didn’t attempt to maim any of their fellow students, eviscerate their teachers, manipulate innocent morons into doing his heinous dirty work for him, or even battle Dib. There was absolutely no conflict between him and the Irken invader- at least none that warranted Dib worrying about it (as irritating as the petty insults were, they weren’t very threatening or concerning). 

Despite the fact that they had made a pact the night before, Dib hadn’t anticipated Zim remaining so strangely peaceful all day- let alone all _week_ just because of some stupid musical they were participating in. Zim wasn’t one to be trusted- not after everything he had done to Dib and his planet- so Dib hadn’t had very high hopes when he agreed to a temporary stalemate with the Irken. The fact that Zim had stayed true to his word came as a genuine shock to the human, and, if he was being honest, it made him mildly uneasy. 

This was so out of the norm for them that it felt _wrong_ , even if neither of them had the time nor energy to deal with one another. It threw him off and left him feeling as though he was missing something. As much as Dib wanted to believe he would be able to survive the week without worrying about the imminent doom of his entire planet, he couldn’t help but distrust Zim and his motives. 

As much as Dib understood Zim, he was an enigma to him, as well. 

Zim was a powerful creature who hailed from an evil dictatorship hell-bent and overthrowing the entire universe. Zim was only one of many invaders sent to take over different parts of different galaxies, spreading the ever-growing and evolving power that the Irken Armada had to every corner of the universe. From everything Zim had said and done, he was a fairly good asset to the Armada. He was certainly destructive and passionate enough to help them- and he was _shockingly_ good at manipulating other human beings into trusting and believing his shitty lies.

On the other hand, though, Zim could be taken down single-handedly by the _dumbest_ things. A small bumblebee had once completely totalled his spaceship without sustaining a single injury. Water burnt the alien’s skin like a powerful acid, and, considering how plentiful water was on the surface of Earth, it lead to some _interesting_ issues for him. All Dib had to do was catch Zim on a day where he forgot to coat himself in paste (or break into his base where he wouldn’t wear it as frequently) and douse him with water to cause him serious injuries. 

On top of that, despite being an alien and fighting to enslave (or possibly destroy) their entire planet, he put forth a great deal of time and energy into dealing with petty human things. He got incredibly competitive anytime there was some sort of educational competition at school and he absolutely threw himself into everything he did at school, if it meant besting Dib at it and proving himself to the others. 

Zim was… many things, and, as much as DIb wanted to say that he knew the alien perfectly, that would be a lie. Zim was complicated and Dib found himself wondering just _why_ he was the way he was. He wanted to know what made the Irken tick.

He wondered if Zim ever felt the same thing about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I could come up with a creative title name that actually fits the storyline of said chapter if my life was on the line. I am HORRIBLE at naming chapters for this story. Sorry, guys.


	8. Almost Experimental

By the time school was over and the techies were meant to meet, the effects of the coffee Dib had drank earlier that morning was beginning to fade, much to his dismay, and the combination of the caffeine crash and the strangeness of Zim’s behaviour was making him feel oddly paranoid. 

Zim hadn’t left Dib alone by any means. No, the Irken had been just as irritating as any other day. He still made fun of Dib for his ( _supposedly_ ) big head, teased him for being weird just as the others did, and tried his hardest to best him in their classes, among other things. As irritating as everything the Irken did was, though, it was tame compared to even just his typical day-to-day teasing and rude comments, and, more importantly, he did nothing violent, hazardous, or too incredibly suspect. 

As strange as it was from the alien invader, it was fairly clear that he had no  _ genuine _ intentions to try anything that would put Dib’s world in danger. There was no plotting during classes, or muttering plans under his breath, or attempting to dismantle their peers limb-from-limb either from devices that he had already brought with him, or ones he made on a whim in the midst of the day while bored and frustrated enough by their classmates to be driven to murder. 

It was incredibly odd, straying so far from their typical dynamics. Zim frequently skipped school throughout the months- not showing up at all in favour of staying home all day to work on other plans. Other days, he left part-way through the day to do the same. When he  _ was _ there, though, their interactions were consistently violent and combative. Their jeering and snide comments were a constant in their odd relationship. While the aggression that always hung thickly between them remained even now, it has greatly dissipated, leaving them far more… civil, almost, now that their deal had been struck. 

Perhaps it was because Dib still didn’t trust Zim (after everything that the Irken had done to him and his home planet over the years, what reason did he have to believe him?), or perhaps it was because Dib tended to overthink things and spiral into paranoia when in strange situations, but, even with Zim actively proving that the peace between the two of them was real and that he intended to make good on his promise, he felt uneasy. 

Throughout the day, however, he tried his hardest to keep his mind from wandering back to Zim (something that was near impossible, even on normal days), and did his best to simply relax. His effort was put towards school work and thinking about the play rather than worrying about Zim (or, at the very least, he did his best to do so). 

That- as was obvious to  _ everyone _ who even looked in Dib’s general direction- did not work out very well. He still found himself suspicious of Zim’s every move, despite the calm that existed between the two of them. 

The suspicion he felt towards the alien, however, was all but forgotten as Dib was forced to focus all of his energy on working on the play.

If Dib was being honest- and the lack of sleep and energy he knew he would have this week was making him  _ especially _ brutally honest at the moment- the musical was seeming like a  _ bit _ of a disaster. 

Despite the fact that almost the entirety of the previous day had been dedicated to getting the transitions done quickly and correctly, they were still struggling immensely. Everyone was tripping over one another and if  _ one more person _ slammed into someone else with their massive, sliding set pieces head-on,  _ someone _ would be coming out of this production concussed. Based off of how intense some of the theater kids were, he had the feeling that, even if one of them managed to get a concussion during the show, they would likely just continue on as if nothing had happened (which, Dib did have to admit was an impressive amount of dedication).

All of the transitions for the musical had been outlined in their paper copy of the script. Rhea had even colour coded the entire thing- highlighting different sections in colours that matched the spike take they had used in the stage for each scene and writing out exactly what they would do and who would do it in a matching colour in the margins. Everything was carefully explained in the thick book, yet, somehow, people were still constantly forgetting what they were doing.

Tech people were forgetting who was in charge of what thing left and right, and getting confused as to what they all had to do first to make the transition run as smoothly as possible. 

On top of that, the transitions became even more of a challenge for everyone once the actors were thrown into the mix. Running the transitions before the actors showed up was difficult enough as it was, but, with the extra people, attempting the transition became a much bigger struggle for them. There were so many factors when they were added into the equation- and the actors themselves were even more of a problem. 

If they ran into others, they could potentially ruin their costumes, reading their clothes up or ripping their wigs askew. Of course, it would be terrible if members of the tech crew had that happen to them, but it happening to the cast members themselves could  _ ruin _ the scene. Not to mention the fact that horribly messing up the costumes could cost them a massive amount of extra time, effort, and even money to fix- and they didn't exactly have the time  _ nor _ the funds to deal with that. 

They had to be careful during their transitions, but they also had to get them done as quickly as possible.

In many ways, Tech Week felt less like art and more like conducting a science experiment. Everything had to be perfect to get the desired result. Everything from lines to timing to music to set pieces had to be completely spot-on or it would cause problems and could potentially ruin an entire scene. Missing or adding a component that shouldn’t be there would destroy a scene and forgetting vital information like a line or cue would lead to missing aspects that would impact the final product negatively. Although there was likely a small amount that could be wrong without ruining the show, the music wouldn’t be the  _ same _ if it was missing something. The most minor issues could lead to explosive results in experiments, and the same was true for theatre. 

Just being part of the tech made Dib think of being in his father’s lab, conducting different experiments with careful precision. He counted the seconds between scenes as if he were counting how long he had to wait for an element to be stable enough for him to tamper with. He checked and double-checked everything he did to make sure that he wasn’t missing or adding anything unnecessary just like he was carefully adding new substances to a test tube. He flipped through the pages of the script, scrutinizing them as he did so the way one would look through instructions for an experiment. He listened to the reactions from the directors and how the actors interacted on stage exactly as he would if he were observing and calculating the results of an experiment. 

Membrane would be glad to hear that.

Dib hoped that Membrane would be proud of him for doing this, even if he had initially joined it for the wrong reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chuckles nervously.* Long time no see?


	9. Mics

By the third day of Tech Week, Dib was completely frazzled. He was used to not getting much sleep due to focusing either on work for school or projects of his own. Sleepless nights were a friend of Dib’s, and was typically able to find  _ some _ way to get through the school day even on days following those difficult all-nighters. 

_ This _ was an entirely different experience, though. 

The exhaustion that came with regular day-to-day life couldn’t even  _ begin  _ to match that of the physical and emotional drain that came with Tech Week. Dib couldn’t tell whether this was because he wasn’t used to everything that happened during the strange and complicated week or if it was affecting everyone else as much as it was impacting him. Not-so-secretly, he hoped that everyone else was feeling as drained as he was, his foolish pride making him not want to feel weak. 

Thankfully- for  _ many _ reasons- today was the first day that everyone on stage would actually be using functional microphones while running the show. 

For one, this was amazing because of how difficult it could be to hear cues from backstage. Considering how chaotic it could be back there (which was, admittedly, a big problem in and of itself as well) and how quiet nearly everyone’s voices were (with the obvious exception of  _ Zim _ ), it was nearly impossible for anyone to hear what they needed to hear. Missing cues was easy for both the cast  _ and _ crew, and, no matter  _ who _ it was that missed their cues, problems would almost always arise because of this. 

Plus, it was nice to be able to experience the show in a new and different way- even if Dib already felt as though he had memorized half of the lines of the entire show (and  _ all _ of Zim’s lines) with how closely he had been listening and watching during the rehearsals. 

Alongside this, it gave Dib as well as everyone on stage crew extra time to hang out and relax while the cast and the sound crew conducted their mic checks. 

It was no secret that Dib didn’t exactly have any…  _ friends _ at their school- let alone within the tech crew. Spending so much time with one another and relying on each other so heavily, though, made it difficult for even Dib to remain estranged from the rest of the crew. He wouldn’t exactly consider any of them his  _ friends _ \- not by any stretch of the imagination- but the majority of them had grown to be at least  _ friendly _ with him. There was no longer much hostility aimed towards Dib as he slowly proved himself as a competent member of the crew, even if he  _ was _ struggling a bit here and there. 

Even so, he wasn’t very close to anyone there, so he took some comfort in the moments when people in the crew would actually reach out to interact with him or invite him to tag along on whatever they were doing. Since he was too tired to even bother to continue pretending that being alone didn’t impact him, and Zim was too occupied with other things to become much of a threat, Dib willingly agreed to accompany Rhea and a couple other techs up to the light booth to hang out and listen to mic checks from afar.

For a while, they chatted mindlessly about nothing and everything. Dib wasn't quite close enough to anyone for their conversation to become much of anything. It was mainly just idle chat for Dib, filling the time as they waited. He spoke to the others of course, mainly joining in on the conversation when it turned its focus to the show or the mild drama here and there that arose between the actors or crew members. Aside from that, though, Dib mainly focused on other things- like waiting for Zim to perform his own mic check. 

A lot of the mic checks were uninteresting; for the most part, people simply recited some lines they had. A few of them, though, quoted some hilarious monologues from shows they liked or made something up on the spot. Those immediately became Dib's favourites. They were hilarious and exciting breaks from the monotony of hearing the same phrases repeated endlessly. Even though they didn't have props and weren't really  _ in character _ for whatever fun monologue they did for their checks, Dib still found himself grinning and snickering at some of them. He hoped that people would enjoy the show itself as much as Dib was currently enjoying the somewhat ridiculous monologues people occasionally did for their checks. 

The entire time, though, he was far more focused in being able to hear whatever it was Zim would do for his own mic check. At the moment, he wasn't posing much of a threat, but he held Dib's attention regardless. Of course, he could always just repeat some of the lines he said in the musical, or sing something from it, but Dib didn't suspect he would choose such a boring and typical course of action, though. Zim was far too intense and extravagant to  _ not _ come up with something ridiculous to do with his check. 

When the alien finally came on stage, Dib immediately felt himself perk up a bit, excited to hear what he had to say (and potentially use it against him in the future if it was incriminating enough). 

Even from where they were in the light booth, positioned several feet up in the air above the sound booth, Dib could hear the head tech of that crew let out a heavy sigh as Zim came on, making Dib cuckle. He had no doubt that Zim would probably be the most irritating one to deal with as far as fixing the mics went, considering how loud he had a tendency to be, and Dib was mildly relieved that he wasn’t the one who had to deal with that.

Predictably, Zim began his check with an obnoxious introduction that was so gratingly loud that his voice could hardly be heard over the sound of feedback screaming through the speakers in response, “I AM  _ ZIM _ -”

Dib pressed his hands over his ears at the loud noises penetrating the relatively relaxing moment, instantly making his ears ring painfully. He winced, shooting Zim a dirty look despite the fact that the other  _ clearly _ couldn’t see him from where he was positioned. 

“Jesus!” One of the sound booth techs cried, instantly muting Zim’s mic. Despite the fact that his mic had been completely turned off, he continued speaking- or  _ shouting _ , more accurately- clearly not realizing that it had been turned off in the first place. He spoke so loudly that his voice could be heard all the way in the back of the room by those of them in the sound and light booths (unfortunately). 

“HEY!” Another yelled as Zim continued, cutting him off, “Stop shouting! We can all hear you. Just talk like a normal person.”

“Er, okay?” Zim answered before restarting- being  _ far _ louder than necessary just as he had beforehand. 

Dib had to wonder whether or not Zim’s supposedly good acting was worth obstacles like this to the director (or if Zim got good roles because he was one of the few people who auditioned that  _ wasn’t _ a lady). 

“STOP THAT.”

“I’M DOING WHAT YOU TOLD ME TO!”

“DO IT MORE QUIETLY!” 

This continued for several minutes before the sound booth finally decided to just let Zim get off stage and have someone else go instead, apparently deciding to turn his microphone down as low as possible for its generic setting and simply adjust it as needed throughout the actual show. 

It had been so loud that Dib’s ears were still faintly hurting from the noise, even with his hands pressed over his ears protectively, but he’d still found the display pretty hilarious, laughing to himself quietly as he listened to Zim going back and forth between ranting about taking over the world and arguing with the people in sound booth. It hadn’t been particularly helpful or any more incriminating than anything else he said regularly, but it  _ had _ been quite funny, so Dib still considered it worth hearing. 

After  _ that _ , all other mic checks seemed fairly dull comparatively- even if they  _ were _ less irritating and painful. 

Even with how entertaining some of them were, Dib found himself practically dozing off as he listened, not bothering to struggle to keep himself awake since he was no longer waiting to hear Zim. It wasn't long before Dib was drifting off into a comfortable sleep, slumped against the wall to his side, one leg curled up to his chest and the other stretched out across the floor beside where Rhea and their girlfriend sat, discussing something that Dib couldn't quote process fully but that somehow made its way into his dreams as he slipped into unconsciousness. 

~~~

Dib was rudely awoken by the sensation of being kicked lightly in the ribs- a feeling that Dib was all too familiar with now that he and Zim were constantly at odds with each other- but that shocked him out of his dreams nonetheless. 

"Hey!" He shouted as he jolted fully out of his stupor, "What the hell?" 

Zim didn't look sorry in the slightest, simply staring down at him deadpan as he clutched something in his claws- probably enjoying the feeling of being taller than him for once (though, admittedly, Dib was not much taller than him (that never stopped him from relentlessly teasing Zim for the two and a half inches Dib had over him)). 

Dib pushed himself to his feet, brushing himself off even though the worn carpet in the soundbooth didn't seem too dirty, "What was  _ that _ for?"

"You were asleep."

"No shit," Dib glared. 

Without preamble or explanation, Zim thrusted what he had in hands over to Dib, shoving it only a few inches away from Dib and leaving no room for argument. 

Dib slowly took what was being offered to him, slowly raising an eyebrow as he did so, eyes flickering between the contents he now held and his alien enemy. What exactly was Zim trying to do? 

The thing Zim passed him was a large, disposable cup of coffee, a brightly coloured straw poking out the top of the lid. The straw hadn't been stabbed through the pre-cut hole as people typically did, rather, it had been unevenly shoved through a random section of lid, creating a spider web of cracks emanating from the centre of the puncture Zim had created. Despite the fact that it was mid-way through Autumn and disgustingly cold outside, the drink was filled partially with ice (likely because it was  _ far _ hotter in the Auditorium than Dib ever could have anticipated), making Dib's palms cold as he cupped it in his hand loosely. 

Dib tilted it slightly to the side so he could peer through the tinted plastic of the cup, eyeing the contents auspiciously. The liquid sloshed around in the cup and buts of ice clinked together and against the sides of the cup satisfyingly. 

"Why exactly are you giving this to me?" Dib's voice was laced with suspicion as he narrowed his eyes at Zim. This was definitely a far less stealthy attempt on his life than Zim had made in a while- it almost seemed too inconspicuous for the alien. 

Zim seemed unimpressed "Isn't it obvious, Dib-Beast?"

"You're trying to poison me in the most clear way possible?" Dib matched his deadpan tone. 

Zim looked offended by the very suggestion of him doing such a thing (despite it being  _ entirely _ likely), "You may be used to your pathetic fellow humans disappointing you, but  _ I _ follow my word."

"Yeah, sure," Dib rolled his eyes, "Why did you  _ really _ give this to me, then, if this isn't some weak attempt to kill or incapacitate me?"

"I wouldn't  _ kill _ you, Dib-Thing," Zim flashed a menacing, sadistic grin at him, his smile down-right shark-like with venom, "I would torture and experiment on you for  _ weeks _ before I let you die." 

"Great. Thanks for clearing that up," Dib hissed sarcastically, half-tempted to smear the condensation the cold drink left on his hand across Zim's face, just for the success of burning his flesh, even for a brief amount of time. 

Zim's smile fell, "For now, though, that can wait. It's just coffee, this time- since you're clearly too weak and inferior to stay awake and alert enough this week to keep the show going." 

Dib frowned. He didn't completely believe what he was being told- and why should he? A vile alien's word didn't mean much to Dib- not when that same alien had made several attempts on his life and dignity in the past-  _ and _ had just described what he wanted to do to Dib. 

"Seriously.  _ Drink _ ," Zim ordered. though it didn't sway Dib much (he had gotten far too used to Zim  _ attempting _ to come off as intimidating and failing miserably), "I want this show to go well and it can't if the techies that the show hinges on are too tired to do anything."

"Fine. If this kills me, though, I'll return to torture you aa a ghost." 

Zim rolled his eyes, smirking slightly, "Deal. Now just  _ drink _ ."

Dib hesitated for only a moment longer before taking a sip through the cracked straw. The familiar taste of caramel coffee flooded his mouth and made his taste buds tingle slightly. 

"How did you know what kind of coffee I liked?" In any other circumstance, Dib probably would have found the feature sweet and endearing. Here was an entirely different situation- and he had the feeling he wouldn't be happy with  _ how _ Zim figured this out. 

"I know  _ everything _ ," Zim announced in the same cocky manner he said everything else.

"So… you've been stalking me." 

Zim glared, "As if you haven't done the same to me."

Dib didn't validate that with a response, instead falling silent and taking a long sip of his iced coffee. At least this would  _ definitely  _ make getting through the rest of the day easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of times (especially with more professional shows), mics are set up earlier on. I included their being a lack of mics for the first two days of tech specifically because we had issues with them on the show I’m currently doing tech for (we were finally able to reschedule!) and didn’t have them for a bit. It caused some funny issues, so I decided to throw it in.


	10. The First Show

On a technical level, Friday was considered opening night for the plays and musicals put on by the high school, as that was the first day of the show where people could actually purchase tickets to go and see. The Thursday before, however,  _ felt _ more like the opening night than Friday did. 

Although Friday was the first day where the  _ public _ could buy tickets and come, the Thursday beforehand was the day where some group of people would be able to see the show free of charge. Dib wasn’t sure how many other high schools did this whenever they put on shows, but it seemed kind of nice- especially when Rhea explained it further to him. 

“It’s basically a day where they let people who wouldn’t necessarily be able to come for the regular shows come in and see us perform,” Rhea told Dib, seemingly completely unconcerned- either because they had grown used to the experience of tech over their several years being part of productions or because it genuinely wasn’t a very big deal, “They send in people from retirement homes, usually. That’s what they’re doing this year. With old people, you really can’t mess up enough for them to not like the show; they just think it’s cute that we’re putting so much effort into it and are glad to be able to get out and see some of their grandchildren perform and stuff. It’s really low-stress.”

Dib nodded, “So… we just do a regular run, then?” It sounded kind of weird to do a normal run in front of actual people today when just the day before had been the first time they’d  _ actually  _ gotten the mics working properly and such, but high school theatre  _ was  _ notoriously filled with things going wrong left and right (even  _ with _ his father’s funding), so Dib supposed he wasn’t too surprised. 

“Yep! Sometimes the directors invite their fellow theatre friends to see it for free and give us pointers- not that we actually  _ need _ them,” Rhea muttered, shaking their head, “Like I said though: low-stress. Don’t worry about it.”

“Right. I won’t.”

And Dib did his best not to, instead focusing on other things- namely how things had been going with the musical so far, and, more specifically, how things had been going with  _ Zim _ .

Initially, Dib had thought it was absolute BS that everyone in tech had to be at the school an hour before the actors did- and he still somewhat did, all things considered. Sure, the techies had to sweep, mop, and set the stage before the show, but the actors also had to get into costume and do their hair and makeup. Each group had about the same amount of jobs to figure out and deal with during the time in between their arrival and the beginning of the show, so Dib remained a bit bitter about the fact that he had to be there for an hour before the cast members did. 

Part of what made the extra time there so irritating was the fact that they could get their jobs done quickly- quickly enough that they sure as hell didn't need to be there an hour before the cast did. Perhaps the director seriously underestimated the capabilities of the people in the tech crew or perhaps he allotted them so much time because he knew half of it would be spent with everyone messing around rather than being productive. Regardless of the reason, Dib found it mildly irritating- especially when it added more time that he would be separated from Zim and unable to ensure he wasn't doing anything too violent or detrimental to the state of the world (though he  _ h _ a _ d _ been far more calm and nondestructive this past week than he ever had been before). 

One benefit to the extra time the cast had that the crew didn't was the fact that Zim seemed incredibly content with filling that time by bothering Dib in something that could almost be called a “friendly” manner, sharing various snack foods and sugary, caffeinated drinks with him since they had the time to do so. 

Much like the day prior, Zim arrived with two drinks in his hands, offering the same iced caramel drink that Dib regularly had when he went out to the human and keeping whatever random, disgustingly sugared and non-caffeinated thing he had selected on a whim for himself to drink. Considering Zim didn’t need to sleep and therefore wouldn’t really benefit from the caffeine of drinks, but  _ did _ love sugar more than he liked nearly anything else, the alien seemed to always order some horrible concoction of every sweetened, artificially flavoured thing he could add while passing on the caffeine. 

Just looking at the added ingredients scrolled on the side of the cup Zim had made Dib feel almost nauseated. 

Today, he also brought a bagel sandwich for Dib (something that the human would have scoffed at if it had been handmade by Zim, not trusting his cooking abilities when it came to creating edible food for humans that  _ wouldn’t _ have some sort of crazy side-effects (and possibly give him superpowers in the process), regardless of the fact that he was intent on not poisoning him this week, but genuinely appreciated under the circumstances). The food was wrapped in a waxy brown paper with a stamp on it, signifying it was purchased at the same place Zim kept getting their drinks at- bringing Dib great relief. 

Briefly, he wondered where Zim managed to get enough money to regularly buy these things from the expensive cafe down the road, considering the fact that Zim didn't exactly have a stable, paying job. Maybe he had robbed a bank earlier (though that seemed like something Dib would have noticed, considering how closely and carefully he watched him nearly all the time and how little Zim could keep to himself) or Zim had somehow hypnotized someone working there into giving him free food regularly. Either way, Dib didn't really care. Sure, either would technically be bad things for the alien to do, but his actions were benefitting Dib and he couldn’t  _ really  _ prove anything one way or another, so Dib wasn’t going to bother putting forth the effort of worrying about it (at least not  _ too _ much effort). 

Instead of letting himself think about it too much, Dib simply unwrapped his sandwich and muttered a muffled “thank you” around a mouthful of the warm, delicious food.

Zim sat beside him on the stairs leading up to the light booth, Dib scooting over to the side slightly to give Zim more room- though the alien didn’t bother sitting further away from Dib in the extra space that the human made for him, still deciding to sit directly next to Dib, barely giving him his own space (Dib wasn’t entirely certain whether that was because Zim was still horrible with human societal norms or if it was some weird power play that he was at, but, as Dib had already well established by entirely overlooking any sketchy behaviour from Zim through the duration of that entire week, he was feeling a bit apathetic about the situation). 

“Is your pathetically weak human being ready for today?” 

Dib rolled his eyes, “I don’t think it sounds like a big deal, Zim.”

Zim narrowed his eyes slightly in response- a look that likely would have felt like a threat under different circumstances, “This is the first day in front of an audience, even if it  _ is _ a group of barely-functional weaklings who aren’t even paying. You need to be capable of keeping up and doing everything you need to do properly.  _ Unfortunately _ , the show cannot run properly without you and the rest of your crew ‘on your game’, so I  _ need _ you to not mess this up. Take this seriously like you would the real opening night.”

The fact that Zim put air quotes around the turn of phrase he mentioned made Dib snicker despite himself. The fact that Zim continued to struggle with typical human sayings was hilarious to him, even it  _ was _ irritating that no one else could pick up on Zim’s lack of humanity for that fact alone. 

Zim gave Dib a flat look as Dib chuckled, frowning slightly. 

“Okay, okay,” Dib schooled his reaction, letting his laughter taper off, “Just because I’m not going to worry about this doesn’t mean that I’m going to goof off during the production and not take it seriously. I might not care about this as much as you obviously do, but I’m still going to put forth the effort.” Dib kept it to himself that he wanted to do well at this not for himself but for his dad- his enemy didn’t need to hear about his weaknesses and they weren’t exactly close, even if they  _ were _ being civil towards one another for the production.

“Good.” Zim dropped it at that, continuing to sip his drink beside Dib, letting a somewhat “comfortable” near silence fall over them until he was called to do his mic check for the day. 

~~~

As Rhea had said, this run didn’t feel stressful in the least. Unlike the previous ones that were a bit discombobulated due to the fact that they didn’t have their mics, yet, this one ran far more smoothly, and hearing an  _ actual _ live audience laughing and reacting to the things they did made it way more fun to do. Everything felt like it was coming together during this run. 

Dib didn’t think that hearing the audible positive reactions the audience gave would make the experience so much better, but he couldn’t help but feel far more excited about this run just because of how the others were responding to it. Maybe it was because Dib was starved for positive reinforcement from those around him and because he was pathetically addicted to hearing people’s enthusiasm for the things that he did, but, either way, he was really enjoying a live audience being able to watch them, even if he wasn’t one of the people on stage. 

Dib had poured a great deal of time and effort into this production. He had worked on creating the set and bringing it to life. He had arrived to the majority of the rehearsals that were held, even if he didn’t need to, and had successfully memorized several of the character’s lines. He had lost sleep during this week and spent more time in the theatre than he ever had before. He had socialized with people (thankfully, mostly ones that had slowly warmed up to him and that he had slowly become more comfortable around as well) more than he had since he left elementary school.

As he took his final bows for this show, Dib decided that, even if he hadn’t learned anything about Zim’s great plans for world destruction and domination, maybe- just  _ maybe _ \- this whole experience was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Partially written because I am filthy little theatre kid myself and partly because I felt like writing more trans Dib content. Good for the soul.


End file.
